


One Night in Bangkok

by Newspaper



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 80's Music, 80's theme, Angst, Comedy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Other, Romantic Comedy, Secret Identity, Spies & Secret Agents, more characters and relationships will be added as needed with each story uploaded, secret agent flowey, secret agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-07 00:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newspaper/pseuds/Newspaper
Summary: A series of unrelated events that are relatable in some way, shape, or form. This is simply an archive of multiple one shots, all of which star you and Flowey as secret agents. Each ‘chapter’ is just a one shot story about some 80’s themed shindig. And whether you two are the villains or the heroes, we won’t exactly know will we? (Unless it says of course.) Guest starring all your favorite Undertale characters!





	One Night in Bangkok

**Author's Note:**

> > More Stuff::  
> > Reader (You) will be random each time. In some stories reader will be female, other stories reader will be male or even non-gender/sex specified. Sometimes black, sometimes Asian, it’s completely random based on what I’m envisioning for said chapter.  
> > This series is meant to be a comedy spoof of secret agent films [such as 007] and other cliche antics surrounding it, there’s a lot of humor that can involve sexual or adult themes, even if these stories, overall, are rated T FOR TEEEEEEEEN. There is also graphic depicions of gore/violence in certain scenarios however not descriptive enough for me to claim this to be M or anything higher than a rating of T FOR TEEEEEEEN.  
> > These series of one shots are also based around the 80’s, however most cases will involve ‘futuristic’ gadgets and gizmo’s!  
> > I hope you enjoy! Most of these one shots will not be edited or fixed when it comes to grammar and etc. due to how quick I try to write out my dumb ideas... so I also hope it's readable--

###  Story #1: Mr. Roboto  
  


The television clicked on, and a news report immediately flickered in the pale retro color. The mono sounds of a nonchalant (yet fabulous) reporter shuffling papers greeted his viewers before getting down to the main focus at hand—the recent deaths in the city that they live in.

 

_ “There have been news reports of killings all over the city by a serial killer whose name and current whereabouts are unknown. There are no current suspects being listed, and most victims are seemingly ranging between the occupations of engineer and construction maintenance with no other similarities based on appearances. The most recent killings have been occurring within minutes of the last, the attacker also aiming towards groups of victims rather than individually hunting specific people down—“ _

 

The television was turned off.

 

You frowned “Hey, I was watching that.”

 

As you turned your feminine frame around to face whoever had turned off the TV, you were faced with the entirety of the private office instead. The bustling of other agents, all ranging from human to monster, moving about in a rush to find the exact culprit you were hearing about on television. While the office might have appeared pretty natural, it was an office that hosted about a hundred or so secret agents, all with a variety of skills and talents. Every single one of them, including yourself, had been pulled together by one boss known by no other name other than ‘The Director’, to be the force of good that innocent bystanders can depend on.

Yes, whoever didn’t work here would fail to realize that this building wasn’t just some ordinary 1980’s law office—it hosted the best of the best in all of secret agent society—at least, you thought it did. Because you were one of them, all things considered.

 

“Why are you watching this shit when you could obviously be helping out more around here?”

A snide remark interrupted your thoughts just as you tore your eyes away from the moving people of the office room, and down towards the desk you were leaning your hip against. You wore a full body leather suit, perfect for being aerodynamic, imperfect for being silent as the leather rubbed on the edge of the wooden desk and squeaked uncomfortable as you shifted to glare down at none other than one of the many agents who was—unfortunately—one of the  _ best  _ of the best… of the best.

 

Flowey.

 

The flower cocked his golden head to the side and arched a brow at your suddenly cross appearance, but he didn’t comment on it as he pushed onward “If you wanna get top tier, you need to act like it. Don’t just sit on your thick ass watching from a television.”

 

“I wasn’t called for this mission so no one will tell me anything.” You tried to defend yourself, while also casually touching your ass. You weighed a decent 304 lbs., with lovely dark skin and a short cut of curly black hair atop your head—not to mention the DD’s on your chest were squeezed to the rest of your form due to the clothing choice everyone was chosen to wear by The Director. Flowey was technically the only exception—he was given a black vase to sit in instead.

 

In the end, all of Flowey’s remarks came down to how he had a thing for asses and just kept enjoying watching yours.

 

“We’re not secret agents for nothing.” Flowey said back, following your thoughts as his eyes stared down to your hips “But no one’s going to just blurt out anything because you’re crying at them, go and ask someone and maybe they’ll tell you a thing or two.”

You rolled your hazel eyes at this, annoyed at his attitude but knowing fully well he was right. It didn’t help that you came into work today, changed, and then sat around watching everyone as they hurried and rushed around. It wasn’t until you turned on the news that you even realized what case they might have all been working on, but instead of actually confirming it with anyone, you sat yourself down and continued watching the news report. Now was a time of action—and technically only because Flowey was telling you to move your ass.

 

_ "Agent 69 and 78 please come to my office.” _

 

The all too familiar voice boomed through the intercom, and the sudden halt of the bustling room hit you like a freight train. All the other agents of the room stopped in their tracks, papers in hand, weapons in the other, some holding coffee, some holding hands, everything ceased just as those numbers were called and everyone on that floor stared right at you.

 

Agent 69.

 

Of course a few chuckles were heard, all things considered. But this also made you turn your head to relook at Flowey, who gazed back up at you.

 

He was Agent 78.

 

“What does  _ he  _ want.” Flowey dared to ask, though before you could respond or clap back with your own remark, Flowey was using his vines to carry himself off and away. You quickly followed on his heel—er—on his vase as you watched him go from desk to desk, ceiling pipe to ceiling pipe, before exiting the room and heading for the hallway. You continued following him, power walking at this point to keep up with his flying pace, and it wasn’t until he was half way down the hall that he retracted his vines to simply hop along in his flower pot, as if willing to walk with you. You smiled rather timidly at this, before making it to his side.

“What else?” You finally managed to say, a minute or two late all things considered, but you were still glad you got to say that. As if noting this, Flowey grunted at you “Proud of yourself?”

Right as the two of you reached the door of The Director, you stopped Flowey from turning the knob with his outstretched vine. You grabbed ahold of it with your fingers, as stiffly yet delicately as possible. Flowey opened his mouth just as his own red eyes glared in your direction, but you spoke up first.

 

“Whatever happens in there, you gotta drop your attitude.” You said as simple as that. Figuring you got your point across, you pushed his vine away from the door so that you could turn it—only for the vine to now return to grab at your hand.

 

Flowey added “What sort of  _ attitude  _ do you think I’m carrying, 69?”

 

“This one, 78.” You commented on the attitude he was dishing out, fucking holding it like a plate.

 

The golden flower glared up at you “Who the hell do you think you are—“

 

“I’m a nobody.” You shot back rather quickly, officially slapping his vine away as you furrowed your brows to return the given glare “I’m the one they ask to bring coffee every so often, who doesn’t get missions or duties or anything fancy—whose been in this force for a few years and yet has never been on a real mission of  _ any kind whatsoever  _ all because our  _ best  _ agent is also the  _ worst _ with his attitude problem.” With that you pulled a bit at your suit, the rubbery noise making itself known due to the both of you being the only ones in the hallway “Everyone knows you’re this great agent, but everyone  _ also  _ knows that you don’t like to play by the rules and you do your own thing. Most other agents who are paired off with you wind up either quitting or preferring to never team with you again—you realize that right?”

Flowey gawked—he didn’t have to say anything, his face said it all as his vines curled as if preparing to lash out. But you stopped him as you finished “I have a feeling that not only will I be getting my first mission right this moment—but I’ll also be forced to join with you. So I want to get one thing clear, Agent 78. Do your damned best to behave like an actual agent. Be a  _ good guy _ , we are the  _ good guys  _ and  _ good guys  _ have rules too! We’re not vigilantes.”

Flowey growled under his breath, but once again before he could say anything he was cut off—only this time, it was by someone else’s voice behind the door.

 

_ “Whenever you two are done bickering, I need you both in my office.” _

 

You swallowed, and Flowey finished with a quick comment “We are agents, sworn to secrecy. We do what the police can’t, we do what the villains hate. We are  _ not  _ the good guys, but we are  _ not  _ the bad guys either. Maybe  _ that’s  _ why you’ve never gotten a damn mission, because you think the worlds black and white.”

You didn’t reply, finally allowing the flower to open the door for the both of you as you two stepped inside. Flowey also shut the door behind you as you fully made your way into the room. The room lacked any color whatsoever, as if only daring to host 50 shades of grey. The floor tile was dark and light grey, the walls were a plain grey, and the ceiling was a %70 French Grey. You could tell, you used a lot of prismacolor.

The office room was small, and yet it was very tall. It was a tall room that had a tall desk, and behind the tall desk was a tall man. A tall man that was shadowed by the darkness of his side of the room. The side you and Flowey stood at across the way, nearest the office room door, was well lit and as lively as any grey room could get. However for him, there was no light overhead whatsoever. The man clarified rather quickly “The lights in this room need to get fixed, but I’ll manage for now.”

“What do  _ you  _ want.” Flowey folded his vines across his chest like arms and stuck out his bottom lip in an annoyed pout. You tried to look as formal as you possibly could for an uneducated baby agent desperate to prove her worth, but all that left you with was folding your hands politely infront of your crotch.

“I have a mission for you.” The man stated simply, now a small grey cloud of smoke escaped the dark, signifying that he was smoking one of his usual cigars. The Director probably smelled like smoke too, but it wasn’t like anyone had ever gotten close to him before “In case you haven’t heard, this city’s dealing with a major threat—however we have all the details that the citizens don’t… and now it’s our job to stop it, as well as to keep them from figuring out the truth.”

 

“What’s the truth?” You dared to ask. Thankfully there were no repercussions as The Director [possibly] looked to you and responded “Killer robot.”

 

Dramatic gaspe. “Killer robot?!”

 

“Yes.” The Director repeated more monotone than dramatic “A killer robot. About three years ago a man known as Roy had apparently started working on a duplicate of himself, attempting to create a clone in hopes of ‘living forever’. But of course like most robotic projects created after that one 1960’s episode of Twilight Zone, the project had been cancelled and tossed in the trash.”

“Someone must have picked it up then and tried finishing it.” Flowey finished, now he took a more thoughtful pose as he used his vine to rub his nonexistent chin. The Director [seemingly] nodded at this “Correct. Three years later someone found it while rummaging in the trash, and while the robot artist Roy is no longer in the city and has moved on to greener pastures—“

 

“Greener pastures?” Flowey asked.

 

The Director [might have] nodded “Yes the retirement home miles from here called Greener Pastures. Since he’s moved on from his robotics building and doing anything active with his life from what our records tell, it’s safe to assume he isn’t the one who picked it up to work on again—some other engineers had to have started working on the robot, but they were killed a few weeks ago and were the start of this robots killer journey.”

 

“Well shit.” You said lowly.

 

The man [maybe] nodded again “Shit, indeed.” Before he made the sounds of someone [possibly] sitting in a leathery chair with a leathery suit on “So that’s why I’ve called you in. I need you to firstly check for clues as to where this robot might be headed next—and then I’m going to need you to stop it at any and all costs, while keeping it as discreet and secretive as possible-- which is the secret agent way.”

“I’m on it.” Flowey said simply turning around and already heading for the door. You were already getting excited, your first mission! You bounced as you turned away as well “You got it, boss! You won’t be sorry—I promise I’ll—“

 

“Whoa now,  _ what? _ ” The man coughed a little bit, probably from all that smoking.

 

You stopped in your tracks, turning back around to look over your shoulder “Huh?”

 

“I didn’t mean  _ you. _ ” The Director clarified, shooting down your hopes and dreams like a rainbow shining star during a boss battle “Only Flowey’s doing this. It’s too dangerous for someone like you— and Flowey doesn’t work well with partners. I just called you in to bring me coffee.”

You felt your chest immediately grow heavy. And this time, it wasn’t because of your breasts, either. This time… it was because you were rather excited to test out your skills, only for your boss to push you off to the side. You weren’t sure what to even say at the correction, and it didn’t seem like The Director even cared. Your eyes were already filling with tears as you turned away from him and back to the door… but it didn’t help that Flowey hadn’t left the room either. He had a smug look on his face with his vine wrapped around the knob, but it all seemed to contort to something else when he realized you were most likely crying over this.

“Sure thing, sir.” You muttered, trying your best to ignore Flowey as you walked past him and pushed his vine away from the knob. You rushed out as fast as you could, before ducking around the corner to take a seat on the hallway floor beside The Director’s office.

You wanted to wait before crying, but your tears were already rolling down your face. You were thankfully a silent crier even though your sudden loud sobbing echoed through the empty hallway, but thankfully no one could hear you as they stared at you from the doorway of the main offices overhearing your screaming tears.

 

_ “But I need a partner—“ _

 

You suddenly sniffled, hearing the annoying voice of Flowey as he remained by the doorway to the office. He hadn’t left yet, but maybe he didn’t realize you were still sitting at the door bawling your eyes out.

You overheard the voice of The Director as he scoffed at the Flowey  _ “You only ever use your partners as either distractions or leave them in the dust anyway, I figured you wouldn’t need a partner this time around—and sure as hell never again. We can’t afford so many hospitalized Agent’s, 78.” _

It was true. Flowey was notorious for being a great agent and completing all of his missions successfully—but most often they were at the cost of either his partners health, or blowing a bunch of things up to dispose of evidence. He wasn’t exactly the type of agent who followed protocol, which is why you figured you had both been called in  _ together  _ so that you could watch out for him and keep him in line during this mission… but apparently that wasn’t the case. All that happened was The Director embarrassing you in front of Flowey who was more likely eager to pick up another naïve assistant anyway for his work.

You weren’t sure if you were in the right to be eavesdropping anyway. Eavesdropping? Easedropping? Anyway you got up from the floor of the hallway and made your way back to the offices, wiping your eyes on your sleeve, which helped none whatsoever since it was made of leather. You decided that you would do your best at making the best coffee your boss has ever had, to the best of your ability since you didn’t drink coffee and didn’t know how to make it.

 

You went to the coffee machine and started it up, working your magic as you brewed the best damn coffee you could brew. You added creamer, you added sugar, you stirred that shit like it were a cauldron before power walking back down that hallway and back to The Directors office. With a deep breath as you stood there, staring at the generic detective door, you waited and listened once again as if to make sure the coast was clear. You couldn’t hear a single thing, so it was safe to assume that either the office was empty, or the conversation had died down.

You turned the knob and opened the door, pulling at your leather body suit as you stared forward at the smoke that escaped the dark side of the room. But with no response or greeting to your presence, you sighed in relief that the room was empty, and you hurried forward to simply place the cup of coffee down onto the desk that was also shaded by the lack of light fixture.

 

You zoomed back out of that room fast, and returned to the office area to turn back on the television. What else were you supposed to do at this point? You sighed as you let the noises of the busy room surround you, and you watched the TV flicker on in it’s fashionable color.

 

But once more, before you wound up too deep in intelligence, the TV was turned off. You turned your head to glare, only to spot Flowey with a rather smug look. You frowned “Here to gloat?”

 

“No.” Flowey replied simply as he returned his vine into his black vase “I’m here to get your ass some gear.”

 

You blinked slowly, re-adjusting your suit once again “Say what?”

 

The frown across Flowey’s lips slowly curved into a rather simple smile “We’re getting you geared up, we got a mission to do.”

* * *

 

 

This was it. You were officially going on your first mission.

You were so excited that you threw up in your mouth—but thank god it stayed there. Because in your excitement you also wound up giving Agent 78 a huge smooch on the forehead. He didn’t seem too thrilled from the affection at first, but at the same time you couldn’t help but notice a flustered blush tearing across his face just as quick as your excitement came. The both of you were experiencing natural highs, maybe from different occurrences, but it was still a shared enjoyment.

Other than that bit of happiness from him mentioning you taking part in this mission he was assigned, the two of you continued on in silence. Flowey lead the way back out of the offices and into the halls of the building, leading you towards exactly where he had said he would—the gear room.

 

It was also the disguise room. Or the salon. Because many agents were turning their heads when you and Flowey had stepped inside. Plenty of hair specialists were working hard for the people in need of ‘clever hair disguises.’ All said agents were seated with a towel draped over their chest and wrapped around their neck, and all with a variety of hairdo’s. Some were even getting facials—whatever that had to do with investigative work, you had no idea—but you also really wanted the same treatment. You know, for security reasons and to keep up serious appearances.

It was obvious they weren’t doing this for a mission or for work related purposes, because while a rare few ran in and out to get their hair and face done, the majority were taking their sweet time to look their best.

Walking through the salon portion though, Flowey had revealed the  _ actual  _ gear room, in which you basked in the glory of the never before seen devices and mission equipment that you would finally be permitted to get your hands on. You were also totally free to let loose your happiness, because other than the equipment specialist who stood there waiting for any stupid questions you might have[probably], it was just you and Flowey.

 

So you screamed.

 

“ _ Knock it off. _ ” Flowey muttered, hopping himself onto the table that rested against the back wall of the room, which was adjacent to the specialist who stood there with his arms behind his back and his attention facing ever forward. There was a white board against the French gray wall above the empty table Flowey now sat on, but it was completely clean. There was no doubt that agents have used that board to determine which equipment was best for their missions. Flowey was already in a serious mindset, the pride in announcing to you that you were his partner had already washed away from him, he was back to business.

Just as you should have been, but you were instead moving around the room rather quickly. Up and down the aisles, rows and rows of caged and gated equipment all for the taking—er,  _ borrowing for serious business _ . What any of the stuff was? You had no idea. But you sure hoped the specialist was patient enough to explain each and every item you were about to toss at him!

All items were apparently under lock and key, however. The metal cages that coated the doors keeping you from fully viewing the items made that obvious, but the fact that there was a key resting around the specialists neck… and ALSO a key Flowey was already using in his own tendril, made you confused. Flowey was given a key as well? Then where was yours?!

Flowey used his tentacle-like vines to sprout out of his black vase and about the room, unlocking certain display cases, pulling out simple looking equipment. From the bulky to the sleek, the variety was still rather pleasant as you gave up on your wandering and made your way back to the main table, where the two were at anyway and where Flowey was setting down the items he had gathered. It looked like he already had an idea as to what type of equipment the two of you would be using, but once you were actually at the table with the other two, you realized that the specialist was definitely talking. Gently, lowly, but still talking to Flowey—in fact, it sounded like he was  _ instructing  _ Flowey on what items he was permitted to take for this specific mission.

 

“Really?  _ This? _ ” Flowey confirmed your suspicions by eyeing a rather flat device. It was surprisingly slim, and while it was in a simple protective case, it also had a TV on the front! The flower had a vine wrapped around it daintily, as if worried about it breaking. The specialist gave a simple nod, and finally you were able to hear his words as he informed you both “Yes, The Director has instructed all of us agents to now carry around what he has called the  _ smart phone. _ ”

 

“What’s so smart about this?” You asked

 

“It is like a regular cellular phone…” The specialist rolled his eyes at your question, as if having been asked that so many times before “But more intelligent. It is capable of doing more than just any cellular phone.” He carefully plucked the smartphone out of Flowey’s vine to begin a demonstration, expanding a white screen to turn the handheld television set on with just the press of a finger. He explained as well that each device that would be given(implying that you, hopefully, will also get a cool and fancy ‘smart phone’) would only be activated by a DNA print, such as Flowey’s vine or your thumb. The phone displayed a variety of colors that even colored televisions didn’t express so pristinely! The man explained how the ‘smart phone’ had a built in camera and microphone, that not only could take photographs while on the move, but could also record live video for the purposes of filming evidence, or for contacting other agents, or for communication between you and The Director.

As expected, the specialist returned Flowey’s phone after the demonstration and went to one of the many rows of items to unlock the cases and retrieve another one for you. All you had to do was place one of your fingers against a small portion of the device, located at the bottom beneath the screen, and it was forever connected to your being.

 

You chose your middle finger, by the way.

 

Flowey all the while didn’t exactly seem impressed. But you didn’t want his unenthused expression to tear down your excitement. A cellular phone like this?! This is something you could have never imagined existing in your lifetime! This was something you saw in sci-fi films of the future, in the far distant yet weird future of the… what—the mid 90’s? You didn’t dare ask why Flowey wasn’t as happy to see such a device as you were, but as if reading your mind he simply gave you a glance and said he’d ‘been there, done that’ before. You didn’t want to question it, but you wound up doing so anyway by asking him what he meant. Flowey gave you a simple smirk and claimed softly “If I told you that I’ve seen this in another life, you wouldn’t believe me.”

 

And of course not. That’s crazy talk.

 

Not only did the both of you receive a smart phone, but you both also received what the specialist called a ‘spray gun’. The ‘spray’ part of the gun was literally that, the tiny gun looked like a typical water gun toy for children, most often sold in the summer time. But while it looked goofy and fun, and terribly childish, it also had what looked like a tiny electric square build underneath the barrel and right before the pump and the trigger. It was a square made to blend in, just as colorful as the rest of the gun, but it looked to have a tiny set of prongs within it. Just as you dramatically aimed the gun right at Flowey, both he and the specialist quickly pushed your arm down as a means of making sure you didn’t shoot anyone.

“It’s not just meant to look like a water gun.” The instructor instructed, almost in a panic. His voice was monotone and light, and yet during this moment you had seemed to panic him “As soon as you pull the trigger, it is designed to not just spray someone with water, but to also shoot an electric current as well. It is meant for emergencies only, as a means of stunning the attacker.”

“Sweet!” You exclaimed and tucked it away. You placed it into a small harness pocket that was now being given to you both so that you two could carry the equipment easier. It was a simple two item mission, you supposed, but you were still thankful for the extra pocket space considering your slimming suit didn’t exactly have any. You buckled the harness around the thick curves of your waist and placed your hands on your hips with pride. The specialist looked down for a moment, but you weren’t sure why until you noticed the earpiece tucked into his ear. He must have been receiving orders from The Director as to what the two of you were allowed to bring. Even Flowey looked disappointed as the specialist gathered the other items Flowey had collected onto the table, preparing to put them away.

Flowey didn’t exactly protest to their disappearance either, probably well aware of what the specialist was being instructed to do.

 

“Hey, Flowey?” You started off forming a question with your wording, implying to the flower that you wanted to ask him something. Flowey looked away from the other human in the room to focus his attention onto you, as you leaned yourself a bit ontop of the table. Your weight kept you from hopping onto it and taking a seat, out of the mental fear of sending you and Flowey plummeting to the floor. Damn you for being blessed with Aphrodite beauty and curves.

“How did you convince The Director to let me on this mission?” You finally asked, trying your best not to smile too much. You wanted this to be as serious of a moment as you possibly could make it, but even Flowey was smiling at your failure. Your dark skin revealed rosy cheeks, mostly from the embarrassment you remembered during the walk towards the boss man’s office. You had lectured him about behaving and not making this mission hard for you, only to find out The Director didn’t even  _ want  _ you.

You and Flowey weren’t the best of friends, it was apparent that a rivalry was made the moment you both had been called into the office. But at the same time… there was something else there that made you rather hopeful that you two could be more than just coworkers eventually.

 

When Flowey still seemed stuck on figuring out some type of excuse, you snickered “How’d you get me the gig, Agent 78.”

 

He was now wrapping and buckling his own harness around the waistline of his flowerpot. It seemed like the type of material that, with his vase being really smooth, would easily slip off of him constantly. But instead as soon as he strapped the belt pockets around himself they stayed put and snug. Flowey finally commented “I’m too used to working with partners. That’s all.”

 

As simple as that, right?

 

You snorted, and he glanced back up at you with an arch of his invisible brows “Well… you sounded real sincere about wanting to finally go on a mission. You were pretty excited about it, and I saw how hurt you wound up after realizing the boss only wanted your coffee talents. Which aren’t that great.”

After receiving a deep frown from you, Flowey snickered and shrugged his leaves “The Director took one sip and told me to take the rest—I took a sip and threw it in the trash.”

 

So much for at least having  _ one  _ talent at the agency. Turns out you suck ass at that, too.

“The point is…” Flowey returned to the question, looking up at you with eyes almost as wide as a your hips “You seemed ready and excited. It’s a shame you never got a mission for as long as you’ve been here, I figured now was a better time than any—and even better since you get to come along with me. I’ll show you the ropes and teach you how to be the best agent you can be.”

“Aw~” You cooed adoringly “Flowey~ you’re so sweet. Thanks so much, I really appreciate it.” With that, you leaned down and planted a quick kiss on his cheek “I don’t know how I’ll repay you, but I will.”

The kiss was electrifying, it sent obvious shivers down Flowey’s stem, and of course your own spine. Was this a sudden crush? You couldn’t tell—you felt like it might have been, but it would have been ridiculous to develop a crush over something as simple as being given a job. Just because someone helped you out in some way didn’t mean it was suddenly love.

 

At least that’s not how the real world worked. Fanfiction and fiction in itself was something else entirely.

 

“Anyway…” Flowey pulled away from you slightly, an apparent blush on his cheeks as he hopped off of the table and onto the floor, securing his landing with the use of his sprouted roots “Let’s get going. The sooner we start this the sooner we can finish it up. We need to solve the pattern.”

“There’s a pattern?” You asked, getting down to business as well. You waved to the specialist as you followed Flowey out of the doors and through the salon, the both of you making your way back out into the hall and towards the busy office area where most other agents conducted their own research. You found yourself bee lining after Flowey the entire time, following him to his own desk which was away from yours and… unfortunately, far away from the television you were so used to turning on and watching in your free time. You felt that it was unfortunate only because you were already used to a certain routine of things. But on the bright side, you were still very eager to begin a new workload and actually reach, or at least  _ hopefully _ reach, your full potential.

Flowey, being one of the best and one of the elite agents, was given his own office. His office was farther away from the other open desks and back into a corner, closed off with his own walls and door. You followed him inside and he allowed a vine to quickly shut the door behind you, and you witnessed Agent 78’s workstation; which simply looked a lot more like a greenhouse than an actual office space.

 

Leafy vines hung along the ceiling, intermingling and entwining with the hanging lights. Similar, yet thinner, vines crawled up the walls off to the sides of the office room, and as you fully stepped into the small office you felt the ground turn plush. Peeking downward, you noted that you were also stepping on dirt and golden flowers. Other than the overgrown greenery, there was a typical and simple desk that rested to the back of the room, complete with a window that Flowey almost immediately cracked open to bring in the sunlight of the now late afternoon. With the sun beaming inside of the room, small particles of pollen revealed to be fluttering around and about the space. While the room in itself was a beautiful sight, you were rather shocked that Flowey was permitted to do such a thing to his office—let alone within the building.

As if needing to clarify(which he kinda did), Flowey spoke up just as he reached the top of his desk “I also live here. The Director knows about my living conditions so don’t worry—“ He glanced towards the open window then, taking in a deep breath “I opened the window for you incase it feels too stuffy in here.”

You made your way around the desk so that you could take the office chair that he obviously never used, and so that you could sit closest to the window and enjoy the warmth of the sun. You felt somewhat sad that Flowey had to live  _ at  _ work, but at the same time, he seemed passionate about what he did, and so long as it didn’t bother him you figured it shouldn’t bother you either.

Flowey smiled as you took a seat, before turning away from you to focus. He wasn’t at all distracted by all the flowers and leaves like you were. “Anyway, yes. There’s a pattern… there has to be, at least. There’s a pattern in everything, a formula that solves everything… nothing is unpredictable if you look at it from a different angle.”

 

“Well, this robot only goes after engineers, right?” You asked, though it was more of a comment as you peeked out the window and looked about the street. There were a few cars that drove by, most likely either leaving work and heading home or figuring out which bar had the most popping music. You spotted not too far from your own work building, another work building that held a rather specific title “If that’s the case, we could just head out there.”

“Well, yeah.” Flowey said in agreement, probably to your previous question “But that doesn’t guarantee where it’ll strike next.”

 

Finally taking notice to your suggestion, Flowey turned around on the desk and peeked out the window with you, focusing his sights on where you pointed your finger.

 

There, not far off from where you two were already at, stood a building that’s sign literally read “By Engineers, Only Engineers.” In and out walked many humans and monsters alike, carrying large computer cases, clipboards, and many other devices that most likely assisted in their line of work; which was engineering you were sure.

 

Flowey sheepishly muttered “How obvious is  _ that _ ?”

 

“Really obvious.” You remarked as you both pulled away from the window.

 

With that, Flowey nodded to you “Alright, then I guess it’s a steak out. Let’s head over there now, we’ll have to expect this to go down later in the evening.”

* * *

 

 

And the steak was amazing. 

 

You two sat on the rooftop of the building later on in the evening, after having gone out for a steak dinner. It was during said dinner that you found out Flowey had a weird thing about eating most vegetables-- his excuse being ‘because I’m a plant and it feels like cannibalism.’ He admitted that he would eat vegetables every so often, but he did his damned best to avoid them. You couldn’t blame him all too much anyway, as you considered the thought of how you would feel if someone showed up to serve you a plate of your own thigh.

 

After going out for steak, you two had your  _ other  _ stake out.

 

As the night progressed and the two of you remained vigilant [in fooling around with your super cool futuristic phones of the ‘smart’ variety], you found yourself more or less thinking about the culprit. A killer robot created by a retired old man, running around the city killing anyone who was or might have been an engineer—what was the purpose of that? Revenge? Did they truly hate their creator so much that they had a need to kill anyone that resembled him? You wondered what it must have been like in the shoes of a robot, with only one set purpose of killing a specific person that you just couldn’t seem to find…

Flowey had whipped out his spray gun and continued playing with it on the sidelines. He would pull the trigger against the cement floor of the roof just to watch the water quickly squirt out, followed by the electric line that shot out to shock the wet subject; which in this case was just the floor. Flowey shot around the rooftop like it was nobody’s business, as if he were a little kid playing secret agent man all by his lonesome. And honestly, you enjoyed watching him fool around rather than joining in on his playground. The dinner must have given him the energy he needed for this mission, considering earlier he had been a rather serious and stern flower like you—and was now playing around.

 

He had just aimed the spray gun in your direction when the sirens of the building went off. The emergency noises blared and rang, though muffled due to you both being on the roof and not inside the actual building. While the two of you were distracted, the killer robot had broken inside and was most likely starting to murder a bunch of people—all the while you both were supposed to be on watch. Flowey had shot you a look as if it were your fault you couldn’t tear your eyes away from a plant barrel rolling all over the rooftop and shooting at invisible enemies to stun them.

It was a similar look that you returned as well, the look if annoyance that he assumed you were going to do all the work while he got to have fun. The ‘smart phone’ you guys were given apparently also had games! Games that involved candy—and blowing the candy up! The announcer in said game even shouted “CANDY CRUSH” in a terribly attractive voice to beckon you to keep going! What were you supposed to do? Ignore the hot voice? But nonetheless, eventually Flowey gestured for you both to hurry inside using the emergency stairwell.

There was a door on the roof that lead inside, the door having been unlocked earlier by you after Flowey taught you how to pick a lock correctly and efficiently. It guided you to the emergency stairwell, which lead to all of the floors of the building. There weren’t that many, only three floors which excluded the basement level that you and Flowey ignored inspecting. You were the one to tell Flowey to ignore the floor and focus on getting to the ground level, only because in most burglaries you’ve seen on the news and in crime films/movies, evil doers rarely start from the basement and climb up. Unless they’re breaking out of jail using a spoon and digging their way around, they would most likely start from the ground floor and go to the basement.

 

Your suspicions were correct, unfortunately. When the two of you made it onto the first floor where the sirens screamed, your eyes immediately spotted the fallen engineers across the tile. The theme of the room was blue—and yet with the emergency lights blinking red off and on, the scene felt a bit more eerie. The noises were ringing in your eardrums at this point, blocking off your determination to focus on who had killed them. Thankfully the suspect had only killed two people—it would’ve sucked if they did any more than that.

…But the two engineers you saw with their heads… barely intact… were enough to make you want to throw up.  _ ‘Thank god it was only two people’ _ ? What are you, insane? It was still disgusting and you were horribly shocked that your first mission involved people being killed in such horrifying manners. There were specks of energy and light that shot through circuits in the ceilings and throughout the translucent blue flooring—as futuristic and fancy as the room looked, the blood that pooled beneath the victims only appeared to look like a black goo.

Flowey had to squeeze you with a vine around your leg to bring you back into reality. The reality of the situation was—oh shit killer robot.

 

“HEY! OVER HERE!”

You heard a call amidst the noisy chaos as your mind returned to earth, and with your spray gun pulled and held in the most secret agent-like manner you could muster, you turned your head to glance off towards where one of the many emergency lights span out of control. There, being cornered, were a couple of humans and monsters huddled together. One of them had peeked around what appeared to be a single humanoid figure who was unaware of you or Flowey’s presence, but it became obvious as to why the figure didn’t care for either of you. Because at the back of their neck looked to be a port where most cables could be plugged in—they literally looked like a robot from a movie.

 

“Freeze!” You shouted, trying to holler over the sirens. To be a secret agent, you guys had to be stealthy and sneaky. You both had to clean up the mess  _ before  _ the cops arrived. You had, more or less, an hour to settle this before they did show up.

The robot didn’t do as instructed. They continued to inch closer towards the engineers who were too scared to run in fear of their life ending sooner by doing so. You held your gun forward, aiming it directly at the figures neck, once again shouting for them to stop in their tracks—this time threatening to shoot if they didn’t obey. But it still didn’t work. Why wasn’t it working? Did you sound afraid? Did your sudden nervousness show through your voice? Could it not hear you?

 

Flowey had used your leg he grabbed earlier to fling himself forward suddenly, sliding against the flooring with his vase as he yanked out his phone from its case. He was rather quick with his vines at tapping away, though you couldn’t tell in that moment what he was doing. It had all happened so fast, by the time you even blinked at the flower’s actions, Flowey tossed his phone directly in the direction of the engineers and shouted out “We said FREEZE!”

 

All the group did was duck at the sudden toss, none of them daring to catch the phone that Flowey had thrown in their general direction. Which was most definitely a good thing, considering the robot’s reflexes were quick enough to grab for the phone that had been flung—only to suddenly get shocked and start a twitchy dance as electricity flickered and crawled over its humanoid form. The engineers took this chance just as Flowey probably expected, waving his vine as a motion for them to hurry out the door as the robot was being fried. You kept your weapon up just to be safe, but you hurried forward to join Flowey’s side as the two of you watched the robot twerk mindlessly.

“What’d you do to it?” You dared to ask over the alarms, and now trying to speak over the sounds of a robot turning into a heated toaster. Flowey grabbed your smart phone and poked at it with a leaf “I just reprogrammed it to become a jammer. The phone’s kinda fried too now, but at least that was good enough to save the others.”

 

Wow, intelligent  _ and _ thoughtful?

 

You were colored impressed for a split second before the robot collapsed and dropped the phone, causing you and Flowey to jump in surprise from the quick action. The humanoid didn’t exactly make any clunking noises as you had expected a robot to sound like, so you were even more shocked when you heard moaning coming from it—or him?

The humanoid slowly lifted to their feet, still groaning and only their head smoking ever so slightly. As if perfectly timed, the sirens of the main floor had finally ceased—that, or Flowey ran off and deactivated it before coming back to join you… maybe. You had a better view of the figures appearance, noting that they stood in a shiny silver body suit almost similar to yours, except more baggy and definitely a loot more roomy. They wore a pair of gloves and boots that were both black, thick, and clunky looking, and the robot’s face was most definitely the face of a bad guy—with red gleaming eyes, a zigzag mouthpiece, and two wavy antennae on either side of its head. It looked just like any other robot you’d see every day, just a typical ordinary killer robot from typical movies.

You continued to hold out your spray gun, hoping that nothing else would have to be done and that you could dismantle this robo-villain with ease, but slowly the figure lifted their hands to place on either side of their own head, ignoring your [oh so threatening] stance. Flowey was prepping to whip out his own gun when it was then revealed that the robotic head was apparently just a helmet. The humanoid turned the helm slightly, causing a loud hiss to sound as air escaped from within the chamber, and slowly they raised it up and off their head, revealing themselves as a regular human being. The robot wasn’t a robot at all? Your aim faltered lightly as you lowered your weapon in confusion.

 

“Thank you for not killing me.” The human said, his pale white skin seemed to finally show some color thanks to, most likely, breathing normal air rather than the air in the helmet “I hope there is no confusion.”

 

You were super confused.

 

Flowey grimaced “What the hell are you?” He asked what you, at the moment, couldn’t. The man glanced downward towards the flower that practically glared up at him, though his expression remained surprisingly blank and vacant “I am a human—but I am from the future.”

He looked back towards you, suddenly revealing a small smile “But I am so glad to have found someone I know. I know you from the future too, and all I have been trying to do in this timeline is find the ones that I know to give a message.”

 

“Are you serious?” Flowey scoffs, snorting a little bit in disbelief even though you were slowly growing interested in figuring out what you might have looked like in the future. The man nodded, but didn’t remove his eyes from you. The intense gaze he was sending your way was making you nervous, not to mention getting you sweaty in your suit. He held his helmet rather stiffly, right at his stomach as if he would put it back on any minute, and though he smiled towards you… you didn’t return the favor. You wanted to give everyone a chance, but at the same time… like Flowey… you were somewhat baffled that the man’s only defense was ‘I am from the future~’

“Yes.” The man finally said, noting that you weren’t returning a friendly smile, his own smile faltered “I know that you both are agents. Agents that reach an elite rank where I am from… agents who work alongside me in the future, but I have been given this task under a man known as The Boss.”

 

That sounded a lot like ‘The Director’, which definitely perked your interest in his story. Flowey continued to sigh out in disbelief, however you were suddenly intrigued considering he had mentioned you being an ‘elite’ agent in this future of his. How did he just so happen to know you were an agent at all? Either he was making rather great estimates, or he was telling the truth all along. You opened your mouth to ask questions—but nothing exactly came out in that moment. You were so confused and so curious that all your thoughts rolled out into one big blob of words. You literally said “AKjdawlidakdma23?” in which the man responded with “No.”

 

“However,” He added then, smiling once more towards you. This smile was somewhat warmer, and more charming, than the previous friendly one he had given you “You and I are… we are not just co-workers.”

 

“Not just co-workers?” You repeated his statement in the form of a question, which he nodded and answered “No, actually since we are in the past I will easily admit to having had a crush on you for the longest time… and that…” Suddenly he showed a shyness that made him look timid, as he fumbled with his helmet and lowered his eyes downward to gaze over it. His eyes were a deep shade of blue—if not that, you couldn’t tell considering maybe they just reflected the floor below “I am glad I can see how beautiful you are in your past. You are just as gorgeous now as you were then… or at least, then being now.”

 

You blush, snorting out loudly from the flattery. The man officially swooned you, and he finished off quickly “My mission was to simply return to the past as a means of studying the humans and their current environment.”

“How far in the future are you originally from, then?” Flowey dared to ask. The man looked to him with a grin “The long distant future, of the 90’s.”

 

It was true, the 90’s were super far away. And you supposed only 90’s people remembered.

 

“What’s it like?” You tried asking, now showing your excitement and lowering your guard. You lowered the weapon so that it was no longer pointing directly at the male, but you still kept it out of its harness and in your left hand just in case. Flowey practically pushed you off to the side with his vines as he climbed your body to meet with the figure face to face, his eyes suddenly gleaming red as he glared into the man’s piercing blue gaze “With all do respect, I have an important question that’ll determine whether you’re just a moron or whether you need to die.”

 

“Flowey!” You gasped, dramatically touching your chest and making sure by chest you meant boob to accentuate your large boobs for the handsome robot man before you “Don’t be rude!” It worked by the way, the man was staring down at your tits.

“We have a  _ mission _ , 69.” Flowey looked to you and huffed, also taking note of your suddenly sexual pose. You quickly removed your hand from your chest just as he looked away and back to the ‘human’ “Now answer me, idiot. Why have you been going around  _ killing  _ engineers and construction workers? If you’re just this nice agent sent from the future then what the hell are you doing?! We aren’t supposed to  _ kill people! We’re the good guys!! _ ”

 

“Says the agent who blows everything up and sends other agents to the hospital.” You added.

 

Flowey squinted his eyes at you “Shut up, at least I’m working here.”

 

“I am merely trying to assist in the escape of the current lifeform.” The man stated almost flatly. This definitely received a confused look from yourself, not to mention spotting Flowey’s dumbfounded expression from the corner of your eye. It almost sounded like jibberish to you, but the man persisted as the grip on his helmet tightened “I am here to help the people of old reach a higher plane of existence. With the research I am conducting I am also trying to inform others, specifically engineers and construction workers, on how to transport to my world. I am only trying to help… I never meant to hurt or kill anybody.”

“There’s literally two dead bodies behind you with their skulls crushed.” Flowey gestured with a vine behind the man, who turned around to look for himself. Indeed, the reminder that there were still dead bodies in the same room as the three of you made your stomach churn. You were ready to blow chunks—and you hoped the man before you was not named Chunks even if you didn’t mind blowing him—

“It was an accident.” The man repeated simply as he returned to look at you and Flowey “This helmet is what helped me transport from the future, I have been convincing others to wear it in hopes of them gaining my knowledge but… alas, it has not been working properly with anyone else. With this helmet, I give the wearer all of my knowledge and everything that I know.”

 

“Why were the other engineers from earlier so afraid of you then if you’re explaining this so calmly?” You questioned.

 

The man smiled “Afraid? Oh. Perhaps it is because I did not give them a choice.”

 

You and Flowey paused. You opened your mouth, but wound up closing it instead as you looked to your partner. The flower’s eyes had gone hollow “What.”

 

The man continued to smile—the warmth and fluttery comfort of his grin had melted away now that you realized he was, most likely, some sort of psychopath “They were not given a choice, flower. My mission is to transfer my knowledge and life to another, and I simply prefer engineers or builders for their intelligence. I need to transfer my body so that I may continue with my studies on the humans of the past.”

“And you’re trying to do this by  _ forcing _ people to wear it?” You were completely shocked, already preparing to re-aim your weapon “That’s messed up! You know there are actual people out there who would even be  _ willing  _ to do this! Why are you  _ making  _ people?!”

“Yeah!” Flowey scoffed “There are other idiots out there who could offer to do this shit willingly without you having to shove a defective helmet on them.”

 

The man also scoffed “Those are the idiots, though. I only want intelligent people…”

 

“Listen,” The plant shook his head, his petals tossing with him “All this really sounds like right now is a typical ‘body snatcher’ case. This doesn’t sound like some ‘higher plane of existence via brain intelligence transference,’ and I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that.”

The man prepared to speak, but instead Flowey cut him off once more “I highly doubt you’re from the future, let alone in a future where you work with an agency similar to ours—even if you hit the nail on the head with that one. In fact, everything that’s lead up to this point fits our case perfectly. You’re the killer robot whose been running around killing the smart people, most likely on some dramatic quest to kill your original creator like some generic plot to a generic movie.” The male flower grunted and sighed almost impatiently “We’re done with your stupid charade,  _ Roy Jr.,  _ so cut the crap and let’s just get this fight sequence over with.”

The man’s smile remained plastered on his face, it was almost stiff now as he obviously forced it to remain. At this point, he looked like he was trying his best to crush the helmet between his hands. He was obviously starting to sweat as well, his eyes seemed unfocused as he looked about and around, avoiding eye contact with you or Flowey. Flowey took this moment to slowly wrap his vines around the helmet he wore, mumbling something that you couldn’t hear as he started a tug of war match between himself and the robot-man who held onto the helmet. The man was tugging it back just as roughly as Flowey tried to yank with his tendrils, and you were in complete shock. The helmet—it wasn’t the robot himself killing people, it was the helmet he was planting on them.

 

“Wait!” You mentioned loudly “If it’s just the helmet that’s hurting people, then he’s innocent!”

 

“Please.” Flowey simply responded with a grunt as he continued trying to take the helmet away from the other male “Even if that’s the case, it means all this guy’s gonna do is make a new one if we take this away!”

 

With a final yank, Flowey was sent fumbling backward into the corner with the helmet between his vines. He huffed, catching his breath as you hurried to him to help him sit back up in his vase.

 

“ _ It hurts…! _ ” The man suddenly whispered, his skin losing its color almost immediately as he held his head. As if holding the helmet had literally burned him, there were deep reddish-black marks along his palms and fingers, like his skin had been peeled, marks that were hidden as he pressed them to either side of his head that was now starting to bubble. His skin formed blotches, blotches and blisters that were growing by the second. Flowey and you stared down at the helmet in shock, before looking back at the human(????) that’s head was slowly inflating and bubbling over. The pale skin was turning red, signaling that he was about to rupture; just like a huge fucking zit.

 

“Shit—duck!” Flowey quacked, grabbing you with his vines and hurrying the both of you away from the corner. As quickly as he flung you both along the floor, it wasn’t fast enough to not feel the sudden explosion behind you, including the juices of the humanoid’s head hitting the back of your neck. You shuddered, not wanting to turn around and yet needing to see for yourself what had happened. There was no way this all had been that man’s fault—there was no way!

You turned your head slightly in preparation to see what had happened, but Flowey had stopped you. He unfurled his vines and leaves from you, just as he turned to look at the mess. You only stared at his expression as he revealed to you just how ugly it must have looked. From what you had seen with the other deaths, it was apparent that this man’s death looked the exact same; bloody, and head explodey.

“It wasn’t the man.” You breathed out tiredly, as if you were the one who had ran and Flowey didn’t do shit “The helmet. You were right. The man was just another engineer possessed by the robot of the helmet.”

 

“ _ He was so close. _ ”

 

You and Flowey looked down just as the plant revealed the helmet he had clung to during the human’s head explosion. You stared down at it as the red eyes glowed and practically seeped into your soul. The robot voice of the helmet chimed “ _ He was so close to being the perfect body. I would wait with him. Until I found someone better. But now I start from square one. I have to start from the beginning again.” _

“What are you trying to do?” You asked shakily, not sure how to even sound brave at this point. You never realized that being an agent would result in missioned that lead to such gorey and horrific deaths of innocent people, let alone, missions that dealt with killer robots “Why are you killing such innocent people?”

_ “The perfect body.” _ Was all it said, neutrally  _ “I want to live without the need to wear a suit and helmet. So that I can blend in. So that I can be normal. So that I am no longer the only one. So that I can live a regular life with everyone.” _ Its voice spoke then in a lower pitch, as if truly sulking over the idea  _ “But as soon as I try, and as soon as I move on, they die. It is an accident. But all I really want is to feel human. Feel as I am supposed to feel. My original intentions have always been to replicate my creator—“ _

You felt your chest grow heavy at the overly depressing story, a simple wish that a robot wanted… all it wanted was to feel like any other human being. As horrible as the outcome turned, it was still a sad tale of a being trying their hardest to be granted the ability to feel. Wanting nothing more than to be given a body that they felt would fit them best to go out into the world and continue to live as their original creator intended for that short period of time. You felt remorseful, you honestly planned on offering your own body—but the reminder that the robot was looking for specifically ‘intelligent people’ made you question just how high your IQ actually was.

 

_ “I am Kilroy.” _ The robot bleeps, almost as if it introduced itself directly to you. You were now officially considering falling for the robot-helmet’s charms--

 

Not that you would have had time to give it the offer, because Flowey once again mumbled “Bullshit.” Before using all his vines to wrap around the helmet tightly, literally crushing the helmet within his bundles and cracking it into pieces. You practically yelled at this action, shoving Flowey and trying to gather the pieces of the now destroyed helmet. It had been shattered, and Flowey let go only to let the helmet parts fall to the floor as he pulled away.

 

A robot. A robot who only wanted to feel and wanted nothing more than to be a part of something else… it wasn’t even given a chance.

 

“Flowey…” You started, your eyes officially welling with tears as you saw the lights in the robots eyes fade to black “Why would you do that? We could have… maybe we could have—“

 

“It was lying and making up a sob story just to save its own ass.” Flowey said simply, having long since wandered off to do something else. You weren’t focused on what Flowey was doing, moreso you were focused on trying to figure out the puzzle of putting the pieces of the helmet back together. You could barely remember how it looked now as you fumbled with the parts in a sad attempt at being a robotics engineer. Flowey left you kneeling there in your own teary-eyed mess, fiddling with wires and metal, as a rather strong scent began to waft in the air. You lifted your head, dropping the parts and leaving them on the floor as you touched your fro lightly. You used your other hand to wipe at your eyes, just as you finally recognized the smell—

 

_ Gasoline. _

 

Just in time, the red and blue lights of the police reflected off the front door and shined through the windows, signaling that your time was up and it was most definitely time to make a run for it before your identities were caught. Try not to think to hard about the fact that you and Flowey let the three engineers go who had seen your faces and most likely were telling the world.

 

“Flowey…!” You started as you hurried to your feet, just in time for Flowey to reappear and wrap his vines around you. You watched as one free vine had tossed a now empty tank of gasoline off to the side—where the hell he found a tank of gasoline you’ll never know because you sure as hell didn’t want to ask. The flower soon enough yanked you towards the stairwell, finishing your thought process with his own shouting “Gotta cover up our tracks!”

“ARE YOU INSANE?! The police could fucking die!” You screeched, being restricted by his tendrils as he carried you hastily up the stairwell. He used his roots to crawl rapidly up the winding stairs and back to the rooftop, all the while you thought heavily on what it takes to be an agent. Maybe it was different with other partners—maybe other agents used different tactics… because you sure as hell never heard stories from other agents. You always, and only ever, heard stories about Flowey’s many missions that always came down to the same conclusions… blowing shit up and his partners being horribly injured.

 

And now the smell of a crackling fire made your mind race. He was going to blow it up. He was going to fucking blow up the building oh my fucking god—

 

“THIS IS NOT THE AGENT WAY!!” You shouted just as you two made it to the rooftop. You both had to climb a ladder to make it to the roof, and with officially no time for the both of you to climb back down before the stupid gasoline blew everything to high hell, you were in fear for your life. This was it—everything you had worried about—Flowey was going to literally kill you in a giant explosion to save his own ass and—“Please don’t kill me!”

 

“What?!”

 

Flowey had reached the ladder with you when he had stopped in his tracks, literally dropping you down with a thud as he quickly turned to face you more directly. He stretched his base stem out just to get in your face as he squinted his red eyes “Why the hell would I kill you?!”

“Flowey! Look at this!” You waved a hand in your face, fanning the fumes of the gasoline stench he emitted, let alone the smoke you were now starting to see rise from the chimney “All the stories—all the stories everyone said about you  _ using  _ your partners to save yourself, not to mention having some need to blow up  _ everything  _ just to make sure no one catches you! We don’t have enough time to climb down that long ladder to escape—at least, not me.” Your eyes filled with tears like before, reality hitting you hard and Flowey’s own eyes widening at the realization as you murmured “Flowey—you only gave yourself enough time to leave before this building blows up. Me and all those officers are going to die.”

 

Flowey slapped you and you jumped from shock.

 

Especially because it was your ass he slapped, not your face.

 

“You’re not gonna die!” He shouted at you, practically glaring daggers directly into your own eye sockets “I don’t  _ care _ about the officers! I don’t  _ care  _ about this building! But one things for sure that I care about  _ you  _ and I’m going to do my damned best to make sure you are scratch free at the end of this! But now’s not the time for some sappy story! I need you to trust me and let me take control!”

You wiped at your eyes quickly, a sobbing mess as you hiccupped and whined “You promise?”

“Yes! Dammit!” Flowey said as he held out a vine. Like a hand, he waited expectingly for you to take it. As quick as you could, you nodded and grabbed for the vine, letting him slowly crawl out of his flower pot and into your suit. You squeaked, feeling the tendrils curl under the tight suit that didn’t have much room to begin with, you were suddenly overwhelmingly flustered as he poked his head out from the neck of your outfit and shouted once again “There’s a lot more gasoline than you expected—while you were mentally masturbating over a robot I went through the whole building and sprayed shit everywhere--!”

 

“FLOWEY JESUS FUCKING CHRIST--!”

 

“Let’s go!”

 

Flowey had vines wrapped around your legs, gripping almost every muscle as if fully trying to take control of your movement—which he had. He forced you to sprint, running harder and faster than you [naturally] ever could as you dashed hastily towards the ladder—almost too fast, though fast enough for you to realize he wasn’t aiming at hurrying you to climb down.

He was going to make you jump to the next building.

“Oh god—“ You held in your breath just as Flowey instructed for you  _ not _ to look down as he forced you to make a gigantic leap across the chasm alley below. Off the edge of the engineer building, towards the next one that was farther than your jump managed. Your legs flailed and ran in the air in a sad attempt at trying to make it, doing your best to follow instruction and  _ not look down but oh my god that is a long fall if you fuck this up— _

 

Your breathing hitched, realizing that you weren’t going to make the edge of the building just by sheer jumping skills that you lacked. But thankfully Flowey knew fairly well, and he used the vines he had slid up your arms to stretch out and grapple the edge just in time to pull you up and over. Unfortunately, it was at the same time that the engineer building exploded.

 

The explosion sent you and Flowey flying forward, tumbling over the building you had barely managed to reach in the first place, and tossing you once more over the edge and on the other side. As you both fell and smashed heavily against a conveniently placed dumpster, you eventually groaned as you rolled off and onto the ground of the darkened alley. You were having trouble breathing, but you were slowly managing as your racing heart tried its best to calm down from all that had happened in most likely less than five minutes. Flowey was removing himself from your limbs and your suit, slinking out and into the open air with a heavy breath. He looked just as trashed as you did, so to speak.

 

You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you were alive, even if your body was aching all over… and even though there were a few scrapes and scratches covering your body. Your suit had some tears as well, but you could always get a new one—just like Flowey would be needing a new flower pot soon.

You weren’t sure what to say or how to thank him, but the tired and worn out smiles you two exchanged seemed to give off the perfect impression. You weren’t another victim of his reckless missions, and he actually cared a deep amount about your wellbeing. At least, it was apparent in how sure he was that he would get you out of there alive—but at the same time, the smile you two shared soon ended as his faltered and he looked away.

“You were right.” Flowey managed nervously, letting his vines fiddle like jittery hands as he looked down at them “I’m so used to a partner, but not to work with… the only reason I’ve ever wanted a partner was just for the company I think. Everything else I was so used to doing on my own; by myself. I was really getting used to working missions that way, covering my own tracks, ignoring people around me and the ones I worked with. You were about to be no exception…” He took in a deep breath before finally returning to look at you “None of the others ever reality checked me before, they sort of just did as I asked and without question. Even knowing about the rumors and stories of my shitty behavior with other agents, they would still mindlessly listen to me. But… you have a mind of your own, and I’m glad I saved you.”

 

“Well.” You started “I’m glad you saved me too Flowey, and didn’t leave me to die.”

 

Flowey snickered.

 

You smiled lightly, before looking down at the tear in your pant leg. As much as you wanted to talk about Flowey not leaving you for dead or letting you get caught by the cops, you returned to wondering and worrying “That robot… Kilroy, all it wanted was love and happiness.” You could imagine that Flowey was rolling his eyes at you bringing up the robot again, but you really couldn’t help it as you mulled it over aloud “There had to have been a better way, right? We shouldn’t have killed it… we shouldn’t have…”

 

“There was no other way, Agent 69.” Flowey commented rather calmly, and you felt a gentle touch wrap around your shoulders. The flower climbed up to rest on your right shoulder all the while curling vines around both as a means of giving you a gentle squeeze of a hug “And if you think about it, it lives on in its creator, Roy. Roy has moved on to Greener Pastures.”

 

“That old people home down the way.”

 

“Yeah, that one.”

 

Flowey sighed and continued gently “Kilroy isn’t technically  _ dead _ , if anything it’s much more happier not having to run around the city murdering people for its selfish desires.”

“Says the flower who does the same when ending a mission?” You snorted. Flowey snickered, a little at your comment, before he let a vine turn your head to face him. Letting your eyes blink and adjust to how close he was, you were taken aback by the sudden smooch he planted on your lips. As soon as it had happened, it was over just like that. You found your face heating up as Flowey pulled away from you “Let’s get going. We have a lot of paperwork to fill out.”

* * *

 

 

Everything was back to normal the next day. You two had made it back to headquarters the same night of the mission, figuring it was best to go there first before wandering off to your own place. Flowey lived at the agency anyway, you on the other hand had an apartment that was a rather far walk from the blown up building. It was a risky idea, that even Flowey disapproved of. And like he said, you two had  _ a lot _ of paperwork to do.

It didn’t take long since you and Flowey worked together to fill out the correct forms. You both had to elaborate on your own sides of the mission, Flowey’s essay surprisingly managing to fill out five pages while yours was… at least two. Double spaced. With 12 point font. Times New Roman. Indents included!

When you both went to The Director’s office to turn the forms in however, the man had already heard about the explosion of the engineer building on the news. Not to mention the building wasn’t far from headquarters, so most likely every agent in the area heard [and saw] what had happened. When you entered the office with Flowey, the Director had his own television on, tuned into the local news station that was still talking about how a murder mystery may have been solved thanks to the blowing up of a building, not having any deaths or casualties to report other than the heavy injuries some of the officers took who appeared on site. Flowey openly high fived himself, announcing his presence to The Director by shouting “New record!”

 

“I thought having a new partner that actually liked you would change your tactics, 78 .” The Director groaned, the lighting in the room still covered his entire body. He reached out of the dark towards the edge of his desk, taking the remove for the television to switch it off and leave the room in a heavy silence  “But apparently not. Apparently even with a new agent around you still have the need to hurt others and blow shit up.”

“At least I’m not in the hospital?” You shrugged and smiled into the dark, hoping to be looking at your boss’ face but still unsure where it was and what he even looked like. The man agreed [with a nod?]  _ “ _ Sure, sure. I believe it.”

“He saved my life, actually.” You added firmly to continue in his defense. Flowey looked at you with pride as The Director sighed  “I guess I can give you both kudos for that then. Thank you, Agent 69, for not wasting our health insurance.”

 

“What?”

 

“You two can get going then. Leave your paperwork here and I’ll be reviewing it momentarily.”

 

With a light sigh you nodded and turned around, Flowey bouncing after you in his newly refurbished flower pot. Just as you opened the door for Flowey to leave before you, The Director called out  “Oh, also… Agent 69…”

 

You turned your head slightly in the direction of the darkness, arching a brow at being called. The man simply sat there in silence—at least you thought he was, until he explained  “I’m giving you a thumbs up. Nice work on your first mission, expect more calls for you to go on others in the future.”

 

You definitely didn’t see the thumbs up he gave, but you returned it with a bright smile nonetheless. Rather excited from the compliment and the idea of officially being called on missions from now on, you exited the private room with Flowey as you both returned to your own desk beside the television of the main office.

 

“Did you hear that?” You asked Flowey, though it was of course a rhetorical question since you repeated The Director’s words anyway “Boss man wants to see me in more missions now! I’m finally recognized as a decent agent!” You winked at the flower who climbed atop your desk “Maybe me and you can tag team from now on too, we make a pretty good team.”

“You aren’t so bad.” Flowey shrugged casually, though the smile he displayed implied his joking manner. The way he looked at you made your heart race, but you made sure to take a seat before turning on the television to let it play. Your usual routine of watching the news was officially starting once again, but Flowey slowly moved his face in the way of your sight.

 

You backed up a little bit as Flowey started casually “So about that kiss…”

 

Your breathing hitched, catching him off-guard as he blinked at you and you cleared your throat. You realized now was a better time than any to be forward with your feelings before he elaborated any further on what the kiss meant “Flowey listen I—I know a lot of our smooches and things were in the heat of the moment… but maybe we can take things slow before getting in too deep?”

“Slow?” Flowey rubbed a leaf on his non-existent chin “Why slow?”

“Well,” Your eyes looked behind him and back at the television “I’m pretty sure I’m into robots.”

Flowey jumped “Robots?!” Before turning his attention to the television as well rather quickly.

 

There on the TV, and one of the many reasons for ogling the news channel, rested the host as he flipped his hair and strutted his legs. The fabulous male adjusted his suit just before sitting at his own desk, resting two long legs across the table top as he shuffled through papers and smiled to the camera.

 

_ “Mettaton here, ladies and gentlemen~ I know some of you  _ MUST  _ be thirsty ‘cause It’s about to rain~” _

 

Flowey smacked a leaf over his face “Jesus fucking Christ.”

**Author's Note:**

> > (This is also kind of just stories meant to distract me if I’m feeling unmotivated to work on my main chapter-fic tales. So updates and stories for this will be completely random.)  
> > Once again these are all mainly one shots. Each chapter will have a similar theme of 80s/Secret Agents/Flowey but besides that there's no ongoing plot that links them all. (or is there omg)  
> > Please tell me what you think! In a way this is vent work so XD; snorts


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